


The Bleeding Blade

by drowsyivy



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuuin no Tsurugi | Fire Emblem: Binding Blade, Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Tragedy, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Fluff and Angst, Gen, POV Alternating, Pre-Canon, Surprise Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25716811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drowsyivy/pseuds/drowsyivy
Summary: A young boy aspires to travel the world. He gets his wish, and along with it, a lifetime of regrets.
Kudos: 9
Collections: Calamity's Advent





	The Bleeding Blade

**Author's Note:**

> This is a piece in Invincible Zine's Calamity Advent issue, which can be found at https://gumroad.com/l/Deaph. Please give it a look; there's some wonderful art and writing in there!

“Please, Dad? Can you tell the story again? Just one more time?”

The blue-robed man seated himself next to his son on the bed. “I don’t know why you keep asking me to,” he sighed, ruffling his son’s curly red hair. “Most kids would be tired of it by now.”

“Well, I’m not!” the seven-year-old insisted. “I’m never going to get tired of your awesome stories, and especially not this one!”

At this declaration, the father’s smile shone, dim in the flickering candlelight. His kid had come a long way in the past few years. He had made leaps and bounds in his academic studies, showing a fondness for history and literature in particular. Though his swordplay needed work, his adorable kid showed a strong tenacity in his desire to improve his skill, having made great improvements in the past year.

All in all, it was enough to make any parent proud. If only the kid’s mother could see him now.

“Alright, Roy,” he agreed. “I’ll start from the beginning.”

The boy’s face lit up, and he straightened his back in attention.

“Long ago, the dragonkin and mankind lived in each other’s midst. The dragons freely shared their age-old wisdom with mankind; in return, mankind shared with dragons the power of invention. The two of them grew to understand each other and appreciate each other’s presence: the dragons embraced the humans’ creativity, and the humans, the dragons’ insight.”

“But that eventually changed, right?” the little boy asked, leaning against his father’s shoulder.

“Indeed,” his father smiled, fondly noting his usage of the word “eventually”. His little child was growing up! “Mankind believed that with the power of science, it could thrive on its own. In other words, man believed that it had grown past the need for the gods.”

“That’s dumb! People don’t have all the answers!”

His father nodded. “Of course not, kiddo, but you’d be surprised how arrogant people can be.”

His son sat up straight and glared. “I don’t think I would.”

He paused, startled, then a boisterous laugh escaped his throat and rattled the bed. “Maybe you wouldn’t, Roy. Maybe you wouldn’t.” He sucked in a deep breath. “You’re pretty bright for your age, kiddo.”

“Aw, Dad…” His son blushed, suddenly giving him a tight, warm hug.

The man wheezed as the embrace squeezed the air out of him. “Roy- finish story- can’t breathe-”

“Oh.” He let go just as suddenly. “Sorry, dad.”

His father waved dismissively, then proceeded with telling the story. “As you said, mankind does not have all the answers, but man is not the only species capable of hubris. Over time, dragonkind had forgotten that they, too, are mortal.”

“But Tutor Ath-”

“Your tutor may be well-versed in history, but he is no sage and certainly no scientist,” the man retorted, having had this conversation before. “Anything that lives will die one day.”

“S-sorry, Dad,” his son stammered, bowing his head in apology. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

His father regarded his son with kinder eyes, ruffling his crimson hair gently. “I should be saying sorry, Roy. Today’s been rough on me.”

“‘s okay...” he trailed off, clinging to his father. “Dad is very important. Dad has to do important things. I think I can forgive you, Dad.”

“Thank you, Roy,” his dad hugged back. “So do you still want to hear the rest, or should we call it quits and go to bed?”

“No!” the boy immediately answered, letting go and sitting up. “More story!”

“Alright, alright.” At some point, though he’d grown a lot heavier, Roy had seen fit to perch himself on his father’s lap. His father held back his desire to protest and continued recounting the tale. “In their old age, the dragons, overloaded with knowledge and emotion, began to grow insane. One by one, their madness overtook them, and the dragons started to rampage and attack each other.

“Of course, the humans saw this, and they did not take kindly to it. Soon, they declared war on dragonkind, but to no avail. The dragons crushed them, wiping them out with ease. The world soon threatened to fall into a dark age, one of anarchy and ruin.”

“And that’s when we made our pact with the Great Dragon, right?” His son grinned at him expectantly.

“It was.” The man paused for dramatic effect. “A sage, well versed in many branches of magic, wandered the world in search of wisdom and strength. Following many masters, he would inevitably desert them all once he had grown disillusioned with their teachings. That is, save for one.”

“Oh, I know who!” His son was practically bouncing with anticipation at this point.

“I’m sure you do,” the father smiled, wrapping his arm around his son’s shoulder. “Making a blood pact with the Great Dragon, the sage and the dragon trained and grew together in strength. That bond between man and god was a relic of ages gone by, their trust a living memory. Soon, their exploits grew legendary across the world, their power matched by neither human nor dragon.”

“Awesome,” the boy grinned. “I want to be that strong one day!”

“You will be,” his father assured him, knowing that one day, his son would take his place and wield the Great Dragon’s power as an extension of his own. “Seeing the atrocities of dragonkind, the duo fought valiantly against the rampaging dragons, succeeding where mankind alone did not. The humans soon hailed them as saviours and gods in their own right. But this was not to last.”

“It’s because of the Divine Dragons, isn’t it?” A sour mood had taken the place of the child’s earlier cheer, his lips turning down.

“That’s right,” his father confirmed. “The leader of the Divine Dragons grew fearful of the pair. Banding their tribe together, the Divine Dragons conspired to murder them in cold blood; to murder the pair that had saved their lives.”

“Wow…” the boy sighed in awe. “Hey, Dad?”

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“Wouldn’t it be cool if we could travel the world like the Sage one day?”

His father ruffled his hair, laughing softly. “It sure would, kid. It sure would.”

* * *

“You’re crazy, Roy!”

“Aw, come on, Lina!” He stuck out his tongue. “We’ll be fine, I promise!”

“We’re just kids, Roy,” she argued, her voice low but firm. “Even if they treat us like we’re grown up, we’re both only 14 years old!”

He huffed and flicked her crimson-red hat off.

“Hey, what was that for-?”

“You’re such a spoilsport,” he scowled. “You’re always on about how the adults wouldn’t want us to be doing this, to be doing that. Well, guess what?” He tossed his hair as he shook his head. “They’ve trained us to fight like them, to tend the fields like them, to clean and do work like them. We’re supposed to make our own choices now, Lina, can’t you see that?”

“But I-”

“I’m going to explore the world, Lina,” he interrupted. “I thought you said we were always going to stay together, but guess not.” He turned away and began to storm off.

But Lina grabbed him by his shoulders and spun him around. “Roy, please, you can’t! It’s too dangerous!”

“Well, I’d rather die out there than stay locked up here for the rest of my life!”

“Then I’m coming with you, kiddo.”

The two kids startled at the gently booming voice from behind them. “Dad?” Roy asked.

His father glared at him. “If you run off by yourself, you’re going to get yourself killed.” He nodded approvingly at Lina. “However, if I accompany you, you’ll have a fighting chance out there.”

Roy paused. “You’d actually come with us?”

“Of course,” he chuckled. “If you’re so dead-set on exploring the world, I might as well make sure you come home safe, right?”

A mixture of relief and worry appeared on Lina’s face. “But, sir,” she hesitated, “would you not be reprimanded by your superiors? Is it not forbidden to leave our designated sites?”

“Oh, that?” He raised an eyebrow at her formal language. “Nobody actually bothered to forbid it. They kinda figured that if you’re that stupid then you wouldn’t be alive to punish.”

“That…” she paused questioningly, “makes sense?” Confusion took the place of worry in her expression.

He nodded. “Right. So how prepared are you two to leave?”

“Already packed,” Roy smugly grinned.

“Myself as well,” Lina answered, a blush rising to her face. Her eyes turned downwards, and her shoulders slumped slightly.

Roy gave her an assessing gaze, then burst out laughing.

“I knew it!” he wheezed triumphantly in between peals of laughter. “Here you were, yelling at me to stay here, when this whole time, you wanted to go as bad as I did!”

Lina slapped him on the neck. “Jerk.”

* * *

Roy smiles as he recalls his father’s fateful choice that day, gazing at the view before him.

“Wow…” Lina’s breath catches in her throat. “It’s just as spectacular as they say.”

Roy whistles in awe. “Got that right.”

As the soft murmuring of waves rustles in the distance, the smooth pink-beige sands sparkles in the sunlight, stretching forward further than their eyes can see. To the right, the pink gives way to a more orange tint of sand, while to the left, the hue slowly blends into a darker brown sand before meeting the ocean itself. A couple of paces away, a hole had been dug straight down; inside lie dozens of round white eggs. In the area where the lighter sand transitions into darker sand, various chunks of seashells and pebbles sit on the ground.

The sun’s reflection shimmers on the ocean’s surface, the ripples in the water distorting its face shining from above the horizon. It almost blots out the shore in the distance.

“Yep,” his dad grins. “Welcome to the beaches of Darna.”

“Sweet!” He pauses for a second before asking, “So what do we do here?”

“Well,” his father considers, “you can build stuff with the sand, like castles or forts or houses. You can go digging for treasure, though you won’t find much laying around here. You can go collecting conches and shells; there’s plenty of those lying around. You can even go in the water; it’s good for cooling down.”

He takes out a large piece of folded cloth from his bag and begins to spread it out on the sand. “As for me? I’m going to lie down and enjoy the beach.”

Roy gives him an unimpressed look. “That’s… that’s it?”

“The sun’s good for you, and so is the ocean breeze,” he easily replies, plopping himself face-down on the cloth. “It’s plenty enough for an old man like me.”

At once, he begins snoring comically loudly.

“Alright, then,” Roy blinks slowly. “So what do you wanna do, Lina?”

“Seashell gathering?” she answers unsurely. “That is, only if you would like to.”

“I mean, it’s not like I’ve got any plans,” he shrugs, and they both shuffle over to the wet brown-ish sand, Roy taking Lina’s hand and following her lead.

As they walk by, they see many bits and shards of shells and stone strewn about the sand. They vary in size, from a barely visible chunk to the size of a fingernail. Some are bleached white while others take on a muddy brown colour; yet others have a stained black quality. A few possess such strange hues as orange, blue, pink, and violet.

Not once does Lina stop and pick up a piece.

“What’s up, Lina?” Roy asks, stopping for a second.

She shakes her head. “It’s nothing. It’s just that these pieces aren’t quite what I’m looking for.”

“Hm?” He quirks an eyebrow.

She sighs. “I’m looking for two halves of a clam shell, Roy.”

“How do you even know what clam shells look like?”

“I just do, alright?” She clears out a patch of sand and begins to trace an outline with her pointer finger. “A clam shell fans out and curves around like that, and then, in the back--” her finger cuts across the curve in a straight line--“it has a flat edge, like so.”

“If you’re so sure,” he shrugs. They continue walking for a while.

As they walk past more and more shards, Roy begins to wonder to himself where all those pieces even came from. Lina said something about a clam shell, which he assumes is a specific type, but what’s so special about a clam shell? What other kinds of shells were there? Why do those shards all look so different?

In the back of his mind, he notices the sun starting to beat down on their necks from above, but it’s a different sensation to the one they feel at home.

Suddenly, Lina starts to tug his arm excitedly. “I found them, Roy!”

“H-huh?” He looks confused for a second. Lina’s  _ never _ been this outwardly excited about anything.

“I found some shells!” She lets go of his hand and scrambles to pick them up.

Roy stands there speechless as Lina gathers them in her hands and runs back to him. After wiping them all clean with her skirt, she holds them up in her hands.

As she stands there, the sea breeze blows strands of her even cobalt-blue hair across her face.

“Aren’t they pretty?” Her blue eyes practically sparkle with happiness as she awaits his reply.

“I… guess.” He gives a slight approving nod, at which her smile dims slightly.

Abruptly, she turns around. “You ready to head back, then?”

He blinks twice. “Already?”

“I already got what I wanted, so unless you want to do something, then we should head back.”

He shrugs.  _ Does _ he want to do anything in particular?

“Alright. Let’s go, then.”

The two of them make their way back, staying a few steps apart from each other.

* * *

“What’s this?” Roy questioningly looks at his friend, then at the threaded shell she’s just given him.

He’s never been in an empty tavern before. With just the three of them there among the dozen-odd unseated tables, it feels so odd.

“It’s a friendship necklace.” Lina gives him an unsure smile. “For your birthday.”

“A…  _ what _ ?”

“These are made in pairs... from two halves of the same clam,” she explains nervously. “The two halves... are meant to symbolise the closeness of two friends forming one relationship.”

“Oh.” His assessing gaze shifts to a softer, grateful one.

“Well, it wasn’t my idea…” Her voice grows hushed. “I saw it in a book I read once, actually, and I thought… I thought it’d be cool to make. Like, for real. Instead of just reading about it, you know? But if you don’t like it-”

“No, Lina, I love it!” He puts it on at once, embracing her tightly. “Thank you so much! It’s wonderful!”

“That’s-” she squeals, “- great-”

“Oh, right, sorry!” He abruptly lets go of her as quickly as he’d latched onto her in the first place.

“Really, though,” she pants, regaining her breath, “I’m glad you love it.”

“Well, of course I do!” he immediately protests. “You made it for me!”

“Alright, kids,” his father announces, “you ready to have some cake?”

“Of course!” they both chorus in unison.

He grins. “Great. If you please, sir.” He looks at the tavern owner carrying a board with the cake atop of it.

She nods before placing it on the table. “My pleasure.”

As Roy’s father splits the cake amongst the three of them, Lina gives Roy a pleading look. “Promise me we’ll always be friends together, right?”

“Always,” he confirms, and the three of them enjoy their meal in joy and in peace.

* * *

That night, I decided to take the kiddos with me to the tavern.

And, dear God, what a mistake that was.

I thought I could trust the kid’s mother to leave the Cult and live a new life in peace. I thought I could trust her to keep mum about our travels across Jugdral. I thought I could trust her to be a  _ decent person _ .

But I was wrong, because the first thing she did after Manfroy and Crystallina had fallen asleep was go out and  _ report me as a cultist to the authorities _ .

“You back-stabbing  _ bitch _ ,” I growl, unsheathing my sword. “This is heresy! You’ll pay for this with your life, Narla!”

The tavern owner raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Spilling the blood of a fellow cultist is an Unforgivable Sin. You’ll never find peace in the afterlife if you kill me.”

“Shut the fuck up, you abhorrent scumbag! You LEFT the cult!”

“They EXPELLED me, simpleton!”

“You damned yourself the second you began to spout such incredible heresies!”

“What, when I wrote about the sinfulness of the Emperors?”

“YES.”

“If the truth is too much for you to accept, then fine. But don’t taint such impressionable minds with your lies, Dietrich.”

“I’ll rip that traitorous tongue from your throat! Can’t you see that I’m trying to raise our son right?”

“Since both of you are still stuck in those shitty catacombs, you’re doing a piss-poor job.”

“Fuck off, Narla. If any bounty hunters or, Loptyr forbid, heretic priests had come across me, I’d’ve burned at the stake.”

“Oh, well that’s not stopping you  _ now _ , is it?”

“Manfroy was going to  _ run off on his own _ , Narla! He wouldn’t have lasted a  _ day _ . Is that what you want for our  _ son _ ?”

She facepalms. “My Gods, Dietrich, you’re not the chicken-livered coward I thought you were.”

“Your vote of confidence is truly reassuring.”

“You’re a chicken-livered coward with shit for brains. If he ran away, I would’ve adopted him.”

“And how the hell would’ve you found him?”

“He’s my  _ son _ , Dietrich.”

At this point, Manfroy ambles drowsily into the room. “What’s going on, Dad?” An equally sleepy Crystallina trails him.

“This,” I say, gesturing at the tavern owner, “is your mother. She’s a traitor to the Cult and wants me dead.”

“Want you dead?” she scoffs. “That’s not my goal. I just want to make sure our boy grows up in a healthy environment, something you clearly haven’t managed.”

“And you want to do that by  _ getting me arrested for witchcraft _ ?”

“You want to arrest Dad?” my son yells, pointing a finger at his mother.

“I already called the guards. What’s done is done.”

“I’m not letting you take Dad!”

… What.

“I’m not letting you take Dad,” Manfroy yells, drawing his sword and pointing it at Narla. “And I’m not letting anyone else take Dad, either!”

“You would dare kill your own mother?” she asks.

“You’re not my mother! You didn’t raise me! You didn’t feed me! You weren’t there to see me grow up!” God, bless my son.

She sighs. “Fine, then. Kill me. See what happens.”

Without hesitation, Manfroy plunges the sword straight into his mother’s chest.

To my astonishment. To Crystallina’s astonishment.

And to the astonishment of the guards standing at the door.

Nobody speaks, nobody attacks, nobody dares move an inch. The room stands dead still, save for my son's erratic panting.

A few moments later, one of the guards finally breaks the silence.

“Men, arrest them all on charges of murder and heresy.”

* * *

God, getting burned alive is the  _ worst _ .

I know, that sounds super sarcastic, but I’m being serious.

… Just let me cope, alright? I don’t want to think about how bad I’m bleeding, how bad my skin’s burning and tearing up and blistering.

After we all got arrested, there was a quick trial held publicly in the middle of the street the next morning. Why it had to be out here instead of in a proper hall like civilised people was beyond me.

Regardless, it was all pathetic. The judge swiftly decided that we were all to be burned at the stake. Which, fair enough, I guess.

But this? It  _ hurts _ .

Why can’t it just end already? Back in the underground, we swiftly execute criminals with a knife and an axe.

But apparently, people on the surface like to watch others burn to death. Figures.

Absolutely disgusting. I can’t even stand the sight of it; I have to close my eyes and keep them from tearing up.

A shame I can’t close my ears and nose, too. The smell of burning flesh and boiling blood makes me want to vomit.

To my left, I hear my father’s screams piercing through the chants of the crowd and the judge’s barely intelligible speaking. To my right, nothing.

Is Lina already dead?

Then, belatedly, the realisation finally hits me. I’m going to die here, too.

I’m really going to die here.

_ Not today _ , a voice declares.

Suddenly, I feel a calming surge of energy pulsing through me. It feels as if the blisters on my skin are closing, the blood in my arteries and my veins no longer gushing out and fizzing in the scorching flames.

I open my eyes. They really  _ are _ closing, wounds giving way to scars.

I hazard a peek at my surroundings. Beyond the intense roar of the fire consuming me, I can barely see the podium of the official in front of me, can barely hear the frenzied applause and chants of the manic crowd.

Though my neck, limbs, and torso are all bound to this pole by thick rope, I try my best to look to the side. To my left, I no longer hear my father’s previously desperate shrieks, and it seems as if the stake to which he’d been bound has disappeared altogether.

But to my right?

I see a steady flow of green energy lazily coursing towards me.  _ Healing _ energy.  _ Healing _ magic. Though she’s tied up the same way I am, she’s somehow casting a constant healing spell.

No way.

She’s cracked the secret to staffless healing?

_ Manfroy? _ It feels that somehow, her low, soft voice is echoing in my head, despite the blazing din around me.

I furrow my forehead. “Crystallina?”

_ Yes, it’s me. I’m so sorry it had to end like this. _ I couldn’t quite tell, but it was almost like she was trying to hold back tears.

“Lina, I-”

_ I’m sorry I can’t make it back with you, Roy. I’m sorry we couldn’t keep our promise together. _

As the fire to the right of me begins to surge up, I hear her screams pierce my right ear.

_ But please, you have to live. Live, for my sake. _

“I can’t promise that Lina, I’ll probably die here like you-”

_ You can’t die here! You have so much ahead of you! _

“So do you! Why can’t you live, too?!”

_ I’m sorry, Roy. There’s no other way. _

“Wait, what do you-”

At that moment, her energy gathers into a barrier, shielding me from the blaze. Her body swells with power, clumping together in the centre of her chest then shining outwards. Almost like the sun.

She begins gathering more and more of her energy, until she can’t take it anymore.

And the energy explodes into fire, like a Bolganone spell, except instead of forming on her hand or a tome, she’d formed it inside of herself.

Her organs char and splatter as the fire pulses outwards in a circle. I think I can make out the shapes of her burnt liver, her lungs, her ribs, her intestines.

I try my best not to hurl at the stench of it all.

The blaze swallows the ropes and stakes whole in an instant.

The circle of flame eats up the fire burning me alive, as well. I take a moment to blink and refocus my eyes.

The orator turns around to look, just in time to see the inferno gulp him up in an instant. Not even a moment to react and panic.

The crowd’s screams come swiftly and end just as fast, the magical fire incinerating and cremating them on the spot.

The last thing I remember before I pass out is my voice going numb as I holler-

“LI-LINA-!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my betas Tavina and Saringold for pointing out several very glaring errors in this fic. (Apparently toddlers are 3 years old max. Who knew?)
> 
> I was very unsure how to tag this, but I did my best. This Roy is actually Manfroy from FE4, and these events take place more or less as written in the Oosawa manga. However, I took heavy inspiration from Elibe's worldbuilding, so I'm tagging this with FE6 as well.
> 
> Tried a lot of new stuff in this one, so let me know what you all think~
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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